A Time Lord's Tale
by spyess
Summary: Marooned somewhere in time and space, the Doctor is rescued by a little girl but finds himself without his TARDIS.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Doctor Who or its characters.

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He shot up with a gasp, shaking his head like a wet animal to ward off the dizziness. _One, two, three…ten fingers_, he counted. Tossing off his shoes, he gave his wiggling toes the same treatment.

"Ten toes," he sighed in relief.

His hands reached his chest, feeling the beating rhythms of two hearts before patting his face. _Yes, as handsome as ever_. The check-up, of course, was not a regular occurrence but provided some much needed reassurance that his very soul had not just been wrested from his body. It was an odd sensation that persisted, creating an uneasy tension in his aching bones.

His last memory was submerged in murky waters. It started silently as he ruminated on his next course of action. Despite his long and eventful life, regardless of how he was loath to admit it to himself and others, he never found solace in the loneliness. Solitude was one thing. Loneliness was completely different. It was then the air changed. The TARDIS was ill at ease but unable to pinpoint the problem. Without warning, he fell forward, yet there was no collision. With his gangly legs, he raced away from the controls and swung open the doors. Then, his vision faded.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he examined his current lodgings and rose from the hammock. He felt around the walls and the floor frantically, crouching with his buttocks thrust in the air before letting out a groan, "Why wood?"

Taking out his sonic screwdriver, he glared at it in desolation. Fortunately, no one was there to observe this source of embarrassment. No one ever bowed down in praise of his staggering intellect or his ability to evade danger for centuries. Yet they made such a huge fuss at this one little flaw in his versatile contraption. The incredulous mirth on their faces never failed to deflate his ego. No one knew that he actually could not figure out how to update the device, and he would take that secret with him to the grave.

"Doctor!"

He swiveled his head at the voice and hastened outside, heedless of his surroundings. When someone called to him, he would always and irrevocably come. No matter what.

"Doctor!"

"Yes, Captain Eight?" A droning voice answered.

He froze. _It seems I am not the only Doctor aboard_. He looked up and down, marveling at the vast emptiness of space. A sickly green moon revolved beneath him. Millions upon millions stars twinkled before him as he gazed in awe on this two-masted schooner. There was nothing between him and the passing stars, yet this small ship creaked with every movement and every step, belying its old age.

"What sort of doohickey tech is this?" He whispered to himself.

Peering from behind yet another wooden wall, he spied a little girl and a rather tall, bald-headed man who he assumed to be the Doctor.

"How's the patient?" The girl asked with great authority.

The top of her head barely reached the man's bony, gaunt hips. She appeared quite peculiar with unruly, magenta hair. Her clothing was a vibrant array of colours with red-and-white stockings, ruby shoes, and a periwinkle dress. The man, on the other hand, wore a white lab coat that matched his pale, leathery skin. The two together were quite a contrast to behold.

"Last I checked, he was still dozing, Captain." The man hunched over in deference, resembling a crow poised on a branch.

"Ah, but sleeping no more." The girl's brown eyes directly caught the Doctor.

"Captain, I presume." He offered charming smile as he approached her.

"We were worried about you. What's your name?" She asked.

"Doctor."

"But this is Doctor, and we have no need for another." She gestured to the bald man.

"It's a name, not a profession," he found himself having to clarify yet again.

She furrowed her brow in thought before shrugging. Turning to the bald man, she declared, "All right. From now on, you'll be Surgeon."

"Yes, Captain," the man responded indifferently.

"What, may I ask, is your name?" The Doctor asked the little girl.

"You may address me by Captain Eight or Captain." She turned her nose up at him.

"Why Captain Eight?"

"Because I'm eight years old," she replied as if it were the most obvious answer.

"Right, I was wondering if you would be so kind as to locate my TARDIS."

"If you're talking about the blue box, we saw it swerve by a day ago. You took quite a tumble from it. You know, for a ship, it's a funny-looking thing. You should get a new one," she spoke cavalierly.

"A new one? A new one?" The Doctor spluttered before continuing, "Never mind, is there a way you could help me look for it?"

"Well, we're kind of on a mission to hunt down a pirate ship, the_ Poseidon's Plunder_. Captain Half-Tooth stole our bounty and we're hot on his trail. We'll help you look later."

"Little lady, it's very important we find the blue box…"

"First of all," she interrupted, "it's Captain Eight, not 'little lady.' Secondly, this is my ship and I make the decisions. Savvy?" She put her hands on her hips as if she were chastising a schoolboy, and the Doctor was not used to being ordered around.

"Oh all right. I can see you will not be swayed. I know your type."

He recalled the personalities of some of his more obstinate companions. In the end, he relented that Captain outranked Doctor on a sailing ship. There was no shame in letting someone with expertise call the shots. There was no need to fear the unknown. After all, he supposed he owed her his allegiance for saving him, and he was at her mercy with nothing but a sonic screwdriver. _Blasted wood!_

Captain Eight nodded in victory before heading to the steering wheel. The surgeon slinked back to the cabin, casting a withering glance at the Doctor as if he smelled a lowly dung beetle. Perhaps the sooner Captain Eight completed her mission, the sooner he would retrieve his TARDIS. Still, he disliked the overwhelming sense of helplessness. The TARDIS was his livelihood, his purpose. It was like an extension of his body, a limb he depended upon. Wherever and whenever he went, he was home.

"Full speed ahead!" Captain Eight shouted, wresting him away from his thoughts.

The Doctor nearly fell as he was shoved aside. Sailors surfaced from below the ship to do as the captain commanded. They rushed to the paddles and navigated the vessel with skillful precision. What baffled the Doctor were their lolling tongues and wagging tails. All her sailors were dogs – four-legged, panting, furry canines! It certainly gave a whole new meaning to the term "seadogs," but he did not have time to muse before one of them dragged him away by his cuff.

"Oi! Just what do you think you're doing?" The Doctor cried out as the dog dragged him to a rickety stool. _Robotic canines definitely come equipped with better manners_.

Perhaps he was still on his TARDIS and having a vivid dream. But if that were true, where were the tap-dancing Oods that usually shook him out of his slumber? One thing was certain. Captain Eight was the only one who could assist him. For the time being, he was her companion. The Doctor leaned his head back, thinking that it was time he was the one to be taken for a ride.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Doctor Who or its characters.

* * *

Captain Eight kicked her feet in air as she admired a nearby planet – a swirling mass of moving clouds and electric blue. Tucking a lock of magenta hair behind her ear, she looked down at the fishing line. The Doctor sat next to her on the edge of the ship. He pursed his lips, making chattering noises with his teeth and puffing up his cheeks full of air like a squirrel storing nuts for the winter.

The Surgeon was reading a heavy tome in his private cabin, ever the studious and solemn man. He had discovered that the Surgeon had a severe allergy to the four-legged sailors as he _achooed_ and _achooed_ whenever they were near. _No wonder he is so dreary_. The bossy she-thing had tucked in the dogs and kissed them one by one like a mother hen. She, on the other hand, remained awake, as restless as the Doctor.

"So…what are you doing?" He finally asked after puffing out all the air from his cheeks.

"Fishing."

The Doctor made a grand display of searching the infinite blackness of space, high and low, near and far. "I don't believe there are any fish out here."

"I'm fishing for stars, silly. Oh! Here comes one now." She reeled in a luminous ball of fire, gathering it in her small hands.

"What are you?" The Doctor asked in wonder.

"Pardon me?" She sounded offended.

"Are you human?"

"Of course I am." She proceeded to put the star into an enormous jar.

"You should let it go," the Doctor suggested without demanding.

"Why? It's just one star. There are billions and billions more."

The Doctor smiled benignly. He knew many adults who had the same logic as her. "Because that one star is no less important than the rest. It wants to go where it belongs – out there."

She considered his words for a long moment, staring at the beauty trapped within the jar. Reluctantly, she opened the lid, letting the star drift back home over the ledge of the ship. Her placid demeanor was a pleasant change to her gruff introduction. It seemed like the most opportune time to engage in an unhurried conversation.

"What's your name, anyway? Eight is a number, not a name."

"Look who's talking? What's your real name?"

"It's Doctor."

"Well, then it's Captain Eight to you."

"I won't argue with that. Where are your parents? They must be missing you."

"I am Captain Eight, master of the quadrant. I have no need for parents."

"But you have them. A father. A mother. Do remember your mother?"

She remained tight-lipped. At the mention of her father, her body became rigid. A more forlorn expression passed her face at the mention of her mother.

"What colour was her hair?" The Doctor prompted.

Her brown eyes finally met his. From their previous interaction, it was difficult to remember she was just a child, but now he saw that she was no creature or alien. She was not wiser or older beyond her physical appearance. She truly was a human child and that raised a myriad of questions the Doctor needed to know – questions that would only be answered through a great deal of patience. One would think that someone as old as he would have an unlimited supply of it, yet he remembered the few occasions he lost it as easily. It reminded him that there was so much more to learn and that he would never be truly to leave this universe.

A long silence passed before she replied, "Yellow. Her hair was yellow… like the sun."

"Do you miss her?"

She scratched her arm – a sign of discomfort, of vulnerability. "It doesn't matter. She doesn't miss me. She misses father."

"All parents love their children, even when they may not show it. And those that do not love you, are not deserving of you."

"Are you a parent?"

The question gave him pause as cheerful memories surfaced before they were quickly extinguish by darker times. Sounds of laughter disintegrated into heart-wrenching sobs and screams. A sad smile graced his lips as he gazed into her wide, innocent eyes. He did not know when he would be prepared to answer that question without a sharp pain in his chest.

"Once upon a time...and there is no worse fear than losing a child."

Letting her mull on his words, the Doctor rose up. Perhaps in time she would reveal more about her origins and how she ended up on this strange adventure. For now, Captain Eight was content to take a nap where she was.

He trudged around the ship, trying not to dwell on the past. The undeniable truth was that every child he had ever encountered only reminded him of his. Looking forward provided stability and sanity that only the TARDIS satisfied. Forever the traveller, wanderlust and the passion to know and learn drove him to keep going, to keep running. Stopping for too long only brought out the darkness from within.

Wandering below deck, he began to sense something was wrong. It was quiet – so quiet that he believed that he had gone deaf. If dogs were ever too quiet, that was a sure sign of trouble. He flung open the door to the sailors' cabin, only to see empty beds. Confused, he rushed to the surgeon's cabin only to discover the same fate. No one was below deck. No one was above deck but...Captain Eight.

"Quick! Wake up!" He shook the girl by the shoulder.

"Hmm, what is it?" She flipped over, waving him off.

"They're gone! The Surgeon, the sailors…"

"What?"

Fully alert now, she ran with her hand in his as they scrambled to the cabins. After flinging open the door, she put a hand on her hip with a displeased expression. It was an unexpected reaction.

"This really isn't the place for tomfoolery, Doctor." Her guard was up again as she reverted to her hostile stance.

The Doctor barged in to find the dogs still resting on their beds. He furrowed his brow, ruffling their furry coats, just to make sure they were really there. One even snarled at him for such a rude awakening. He scampered to the Surgeon's cabin to find the bald man there as well with his head resting on an open book. Upon closer inspection, the Doctor confirmed that the surgeon was not replaced by another entity_. I may be mad but not that mad. Not all is what it seems. _

"I know what I saw. Where do you come from? What are you?" He asked softly without insinuation.

"Doctor, maybe you hit your head really hard and you're seeing things." She appeared genuinely concerned.

What made it worse was that he still had not recovered his memories. One second he was on his TARDIS. Next, he ended up here. He did not sense any ill intentions from her end, but she seemed unwilling to talk. Her mission occupied her mind.

Everyone's attention was abruptly drawn to the sound of howling in the distance. The guard dog had spotted something from the look-out post.

"Sailors, to your positions!" Captain Eight sprinted back outside.

The Doctor was nearly bowled over again by the rush of canines running after their beloved leader. He had no choice but to forget that he had just seen a disappearing act of the crew. With a dog dragging him by the cuff again, he was swept away in the chaos.

Captain Eight took out her spyglass atop a box. A vicious grin unbefitting of a small girl followed.

"Ship ahoy! It's the_ Poseidon's Plunder_! I'll get you yet, Captain Half-Tooth! That bounty is rightfully mine!" She yelled into the void, mustering up the ferocity of a thousand Sontarans.

The Doctor leaned out, holding onto a rope. He spotted another two-masted schooner in the distance. It came closer and closer. Captain Eight dragged him back onto the floorboards.

"You! You might as well help. You'll need a gun."

"The Doctor does not use-" He stopped in mid-sentence when she thrust a water gun in his hand.

"Just aim and shoot." She demonstrated by drenching him with water.

His eyes widened as he looked up to see the dogs armed with water balloons. Attached on the top of their heads were mini catapults to launch the attacks.

"Would someone please tell me what is going on here?" The Doctor moaned, trying to search for the tap-dancing Oods that would jolt him awake from this dream.

The ship neared the _Poseidon's Plunder_ until both ships crashed into each other. Captain Eight was the first to leap into the fray with a wild holler as the barking dogs jumped after her. The Doctor had no choice but to step onto the pirate ship with nothing but a weapon loaded with water. He paused as he was met with an army of cats. The felines hissed and scrambled to get away from the splashes of water.

"Show yourself, Captain Half-Tooth! We have defeated your crew." Captain Eight launched a water balloon at a rather tubby tabby who yowled in disgust.

"Surely, Captain Eight, your quarrel is not with my crew but with me. What say you we have an honourable duel instead – just me and you, to determine the legitimate owner of the bounty?" A deep, silky voice echoed out.

"Fine, show yourself and we'll begin."

Both felines and canines made room as Captain Half-Tooth hopped onto the scene. A five-foot rabbit with wiry, grey fur stepped out into the light, revealing the reason behind his name. One of his two front teeth was broken in half, making it shorter than the other. The menacing rabbit was wearing an eye patch and bore penetrating claws. Captain Eight tossed Captain Half-Tooth an extra water gun, which the giant rabbit caught in his paw with ease.

It suddenly dawned on the slack-jawed Doctor. All of this was familiar, for he had seen carefree children engaged in play before. Through his travels, he had encountered the far-fetched and sometimes just plain silly, but all that he had witnessed so far had a surreal feel. It was as if he was running in the wild imaginations that only children could concoct because even in their most adventurous fantasies, nothing ever harmed them. Experience had taught the Doctor to trust his instincts, and his instincts came to one conclusion. A seed of doubt had been growing since he saw the crew disappear before his eyes when Captain Eight was not with him.

"This isn't real," he told himself.

Captain Half-Tooth and Captain Eight took three steps away from the centre, counting down like Western cowboys for a final show down.

"But I'm real. She's real. At least, I'm quite sure she's real," the Doctor muttered

"Draw!"

Both captains turned around, brandishing their weapons. Captain Eight ducked down as a splash of water narrowly missed her head. Captain Half-Tooth looked down in dismay to find water dripping down his fuzzy belly. The cats mewled in despair while the dogs barked in joy. Eager tails wagged in the air.

"Curse you, Captain Eight! Just take the bounty and leave."

Captain Half-Tooth tossed a weighty treasure chest before her. She grinned, ordering her crew to carry the bounty back. There was no real war, no real fight. _Nothing ever harmed them. _

The Doctor stepped back onto her ship with thoughts still weighing heavily. It was very possible that he was in peril but did not know it. It was very possible her life was in danger and she did not know it. Because he wasn't dreaming. Because even if this wasn't real, there was something very real manipulating this reality.

He sat on the ledge, squirting water into his mouth. "Mmm…watery."

"Well, you were no help, Doctor." She came up to him, taking away his water gun and putting sunglasses on him.

She put on her own sunglasses before opening the treasure chest, revealing a brilliant star. She placed her hands on it as if seeking comfort from a warm fireplace. Grinning delightedly, she admired the sheer beauty of the star but soon, the smile disappeared. She bit her lip in deep contemplation, turning to him.

"I should let it go, shouldn't I?" She asked.

"It is your decision, Captain."

"It should go back home," she made up her own mind.

Drawing the star in her arms, she let it drift away over the ledge. As she sighed sorrowfully, the Doctor was overcome with pride in her selflessness. And just as the stars belonged to the skies, she too must belong somewhere, sometime.

"No more missions," he spoke sternly but softly, anticipating her retort. "It is time we both returned home."


End file.
